


I think he's upset with me

by TricksterCrow



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood and Gore, Chains, Gags, Hybristophilia, Inappropriate uses of chemicals, Look it up it's a thing, M/M, Masochist Tom Riddle, Minor Character Death, Murder, No spellcheck was too tired, Non-Consensual Bondage, Possessive Harry Potter, Praise Kink, Premature Ejaculation, Psychological Torture, Sadistic Harry Potter, Sorry Not Sorry, Torture, Yandere Harry Potter, things get kinky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:41:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29207529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TricksterCrow/pseuds/TricksterCrow
Summary: Tom didn't mean to be late to the dinner date. Lucius just wouldn't stop talking!He didn't think Harry would get super mad for him being a little late.Then again he's been acting a bit strange lately.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 8
Kudos: 103





	I think he's upset with me

**Author's Note:**

> I had a sudden urge to write a murderous Yandere Harry. Apologies if its a bit too much.

Tom was late, for what? Well he was late for a dinner date. One that he and Harry had planned for months. It wasn't like he wanted to be late, oh no, but Lucius would just not stop talking. Of course he could have just left the blathering twit to his musings, but he knew, he knew it would be taken as an insult to the man’s ego. That’s not to say he prioritizes his “ _ friends”  _ over his own boyfriend. 

At least, that’s how he saw it. So he was in a slight panic to get to the restaurant. He wanted to see his boyfriend's sweet smile on his delicately soft face. An expression only he was privy to. His angelic features were a sight to behold in close quarters and Tom would do anything to keep his love happy. Even if it meant his own happiness would suffer just a little.

So when he finally made it to the restaurant, thirty minutes late, he did his absolute best to look apologetic. But he stopped in his tracks when the lady at the front desk denied him entry.

“I’m sorry Mr. Riddle, your date has already left, and your reservation is used up.” Tom let the strained smile on his face fall as he was guided back out of the front doors. They slipped closed silently behind him and he had to blink away the stinging in his eyes. No, he would not cry, not now. He had to see Harry, he had to explain why he was late. 

The walk home was quick, his pace brisk and only speeding up as his anxiety rose. How would Harry respond to his tardiness? Would he be cold and calculating? His green eyes glossed over with ice and betrayal. A look he’s seen only twice, terrifyingly cold, freezing him to the depths of his core. 

Would he be angry? Fiery temper getting the best of him. He would probably scream and yell, force Tom to explain everything he did that day. Who he saw, what he was doing, what he felt. It would burn him, singe his heart strings, make him feel woefully useless under his lover’s hand. But it would be better than the silence, the coldness that creeped into his veins, the look of betrayal he would most likely receive even as he prayed for the opposite outcome. 

It’s odd, truly it is, Tom Riddle, one of the most influential people of his time, so strong and willful, completely under the thumb of his lover. Of course it wasn't always like that, but people change when certain  _ things _ are exposed to them. Harry was the cause of such a change. The once powerful Tom Riddle bowed to no one, not even his own father, but that all changed when it came to Harry Potter. 

He paused in his musings as he reached his hand towards the door knob. Was he ready to do this? Perhaps he should let Harry blow off some steam first. Then again it might just make the situation worse. He pondered for a moment before carefully twisting the knob and opening the door.

It was dark, incredibly so, to the point he wondered if his love was even home. But he knew Harry would be here. It was rare that Harry left the house of his own accord. He much preferred to stay and write his novels. Perhaps if they needed groceries he would walk to the shop two streets down. But that was the farthest he would go. 

The clicking of his polished shoes was the only thing he could hear in the silent house. His eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness and he barely caught the movement in the corner of his eye. He turned towards the flicker of light too late as a stab of pain bloomed from his neck through the rest of his body. His form suddenly dropping to the floor like a puppet whose strings have been cut. 

The pain was brutal, tight in his chest and burning through his veins. His limbs spasmed as his brain struggled to comprehend what was attacking him. Unable to understand that he was being harmed from within. It lasted for what felt like hours but the sound of stressed pacing contradicted such a thought. What was happening? What was he injected with? Why?

“H- Harry?” he ground out through clenched teeth. The pacing stopped for a moment and Tom almost breathed a sigh of relief as the familiar sight of Harry's boots came into view. Almost. Instead his anxiety increased as his lover scoffed from above him. Then the boot was lifted and his vision went black.

  
  
  
  


The sound of chains and water dripping was what he woke up to. He felt wet, as if he were sitting in a puddle of rainwater. It was dark, much like when he entered his home, dark enough that his heart pounded in his chest from anxiety. Was he alone? The darkness encapsulated him completely. He couldn't see anything around him but he knew the room was spacious. The drops echoed through the room, bouncing from wall to wall, too large to be a bedroom. 

He tried to move his arms despite the numbness inside them. All he managed to do was rattle the chains. He groaned around the object in his mouth. It was fabric, thick and coated in his saliva. How he wasn't choking on it was a miracle. The metal chains bit into the skin of his neck as he leaned forward. It was so cold, as if his captor had pulled them from an ice box. Even the air around him was cold and eerily sharp as he breathed it in. 

The screeching sound of metal on stone caught his attention and he tried his best to find the source of the sound. Was he wearing a blindfold? He couldn’t tell anymore. He could barely even feel anything other than the cold. There was a loud bang and the sound of heavy boots on wood flooring above him. So he was in a cellar, no wonder it was so cold. 

He was confused, not because he was kidnapped, or the reason why. But he was confused by the how. How would the kidnapper even know how to get into the house? There were at least five locks on the front door. He knew Harry wouldn't have let them in. But the kidnapper was also wearing Harry’s boots. Was his boyfriend okay? Was this some sort of sick joke or did his kidnapper have some weird fetish with wearing others boots? 

But what of it was Harry? The way they paced was so familiar. Even now above him he could hear them walking back and forth on the creaky wooden floor. The  _ click click click _ of the heeled boots grated against his nerves. Why would his love, his one and only, why would he do this to him?

The pacing stopped for a moment, then the dragging started. Something heavy covered in what sounded like crinkled plastic was yanked towards the far left of the room above. Then the latch of a door could be heard as light finally permeated the dark cellar. Tom hissed as the lights were turned on, bathing him in white for a moment, then blissfully dimming so he could focus. 

What he saw around him made his heart stop. Bodies, severed limbs, entrails of all kinds, scattered around the room like decoration. Coagulated blood coated the walls as if a psychotic murderer thought it would make the perfect shade of paint. Perhaps they did think such a thing. There were pictures lining the surface of one of the walls. Each one more gruesome than the last. Women hanging from their flats balcony, men tied to chairs, covered in lacerations, a familiar young man with his head caved in. They were all victims of the same insane murderer. 

The Hallowed was an illusive killer, no one could track them down, no one could tie the murders together either. They didn’t kill just women, or men, they didn’t have a specific style of killing, they never left any marks or stole from them. It’s as if they killed just because they could. What could have possibly been their motivation? 

The dragging sound continued and soon the creaking of stairs followed by a multitude of thunks drew near. It was time to see his would be killer. Finally the kidnapper stepped into the room, hefting a blue plastic tarp behind him effortlessly, their eyes scanned the room before finally landing on Tom’s own. 

Harry smiled, teeth sharp and glinting in the low light, eyes full of excitement. Tom’s face lost all color, there was no way this was his boyfriend. Not with that look on his face. He went to speak before remembering his gag. So he gave Harry a pleading look instead. 

Harry ignored him, prefering to walk by, casually lugging the body with him. Then he set it down and began to unwrap it. Slowly the blue tarp was removed, carefully unfurled and laid flat upon the floor. Inside was a familiar head of platinum blonde hair he had seen not long before his kidnapping. 

“You know,” Harry’s low gravelly voice began, “For a man with such a high standing in society, you would expect him to have some security for things like this.” Tom watched as Harry caressed sharp nailed fingers along the man’s jaw. Whether he was unconscious or dead he couldn't tell. Though the lack of blood upon his person probably meant the former. 

Harry sneered before stepping over the man’s body to grab a new set of chains. With carefully practiced ease he wrapped them tightly around the blonde’s wrists, careful to not cut off circulation, but tightening them just enough to cause mild pain should he struggle. Then with a strength Tom had never seen from him, Harry lifted the blonde off the floor and hung him from one of the many hooks lining the ceiling. 

“I don't understand how anyone could tolerate this fool. Especially you.” Tom flinched at the sharp tone his boyfriend lashed him with. “Honestly I don’t know where I went wrong. I thought for sure if I had shown you my undying love you would quit interacting with these heathens.”

Tom blinked at the sudden change in topics, whiplash sending him down a pit of unvoiced questions. “I cook for you, I clean, I help pay bills, I tolerate your friends, I make time out of my day for you. I keep you safe from all the crazy men and women who wish to steal you away from me.” he pauses, “though that last part isn’t quite so obvious.”

He glides smoothly over to the wall of photos with a serene smile gracing his features. “Oh yes, many of those lechers were so fun to get rid of.” Harry turned to look at Tom with an intense gaze. “Oh how you should have heard them Tom. Their screams were like music to my ears.” 

Tom shifted uncomfortably under his lover’s gaze. This couldn’t be Harry, he had to be dreaming, this was just some nightmare, right? Harry hummed a low tune as he walked over to the workbench to the right. It wasn’t nearly as bloodstained as the rest of the room. One could even say it was in pristine condition. It was also incredibly familiar to one Tom had been wanting for a while. Harry seemed to have noticed him staring because he turned towards Tom with a grin.

“Do you like it? I bought it for our anniversary but obviously I won’t be able to gift it anymore. Not with all the…” he looked at the bench with slight disgust “Filth covering its surface.” Harry grabbed a knife from one of the drawers and pursed his lips. “Dull, but it will have to do.” Tom swallowed as Harry turned towards him. His body shivered from both the cold and the unending fear he felt towards his own lover.

“What’s that look for love?” Harry lilted with a wide eyed curiosity. Then his gaze shifted from Tom to the knife and then back. “Oh sweetie this isn’t for you. I could never hurt my precious little doll.” The grin returned, full of teeth, this time he could see the sharpened canines. “Oh no, this is for our guest. After all he deserves my special treatment right?” 

Harry’s boots clicked along the sticky blood covered floor and it's only then that Tom realized that the dripping noise from earlier wasn't water. How many had Harry killed? There was no way it was  _ everyone _ who flirted with him. There were so many people who found Tom attractive. It would be impossible to kill them all. Right?

Tom’s gaze refocused as Harry stopped in front of Lucius’ body. His lover's eyes crinkled up in anticipation as he licked his lips like a predator who’s spotted their prey. Then slowly but surely the knife was dragged along the blonde’s smooth skin. It didn’t cut through the first layer but it did manage to make the man stir slightly. 

Harry tutted softly and narrowed his eyes. “Wakey wakey.” he sang. “It’s time to get up and play.” at the unfamiliar voice Lucius’ eyes snapped open. Tom almost wished they hadn’t. The resulting look of satisfaction on Harry’s face was terrifying. “Oh hello there.” Harry giggled. Lucius’ eyes widened as he looked around the room. Probably noticing the things Tom had. 

“Oh look at your face. Eyes wide and terrified, like a child watching a scary movie. I’m flattered really. It’s been so long since I’ve seen fear as pure as this.” Lucius finally settled his eyes on Harry. Going from scared to confused to angry. “Ah there it is. That rage I’m so familiar with. I would assume that you would be screaming at me if your mouth wasn't held shut with tape. Though I’m glad you can’t do that right now. You see I have to teach my doll a lesson and your screaming would just get in the way.” 

At the mention of the pet name Tom swallowed the lump in his throat. Lucius’ gaze shifted over to his own at first it was a look of betrayal that slowly shifted to concern. Who wouldn't be concerned when the psychotic boyfriend of your business partner has you tied up in a cellar full of corpses? Meanwhile said partner is also chained to the wall and gagged. 

“Don’t. Look. At. Him.” Harry ground out, punctuating each word with a jab of the dull knife against his chest. Lucius’ eyes shifted back to Harry quickly. “Better, wouldn't want to upset me more than I already am right?” Harry didn’t bother to watch for an answer as he turned back towards his lover. 

“Now lets see why we’re here.” Harry pulled a slip of paper from his pocket and unfolded it delicately. “Ah yes, it seems my boyfriend prefers the company of others.” Tom cried behind his gag indignantly only to whimper as Harry pierced him with a cold look in his eyes. “Not only did he decide to forgo our private time by spending it with the  _ filth _ on the streets, but he even chose to skip our dinner date by spending his time with  _ you _ .” He growled, turning towards Lucius.

“At first I was fine with it. They were just friends after all and I was the one who had captured his heart.” his voice sang with a fondness Tom hadn’t heard in months. “But then it began.” Harry began to twitch, itching to do something, to move. So he started pacing. 

“He met new people, influential people, like you.” his gaze flicked to Lucius for a moment making the blonde tense. “Which was fine, it was good for work. Now he’s the top of the board and he makes good money. Enough to care for the both of us. Which is great and all. But you see-” He stops pacing and grabs Lucius by his lapels. “I don’t like it when my things aren’t returned to me on time.” 

Lucius struggled to push Harry away. His thrashing only made the chains holding him up jangle. Harry’s grin only stretched wider. “Oh but that can’t be all right? Yes, there’s also the fact that he’s  _ always _ going on and on about his co-workers.” Lucius stopped thrashing, chest inflating and compressing with every breath he takes. “ _ Oh babe, work is just the worst! _ He would cry.” Harry explained in a scarily accurate imitation of Tom’s voice. “ _ Lucius had me do this and that. The others are always slacking. It’s no wonder work never gets done. _ ” 

Lucius scoffs from behind the tape and Harry stills. His pupils narrowed to pinpricks and his grin fell into a scowl. “Is he perchance wrong?” Harry inquired with a dangerous edge in his voice. “I mean, it was to my knowledge that he took up a lot of the extra work because of the slackers. Are you in disagreement with this information?” Lucius jerked a nod and Tom wished he really hadn’t.

Harry shifted on his left foot and reached up to the blonde’s face. The tape holding his mouth shut was ripped off violently making the blonde hiss in pain. “Please do explain then, Mr. Malfoy. Explain why my boyfriend comes home later and later each night. Explain why he was so  _ late  _ to our dinner date that I had to leave without food. It had  _ better  _ be a  _ valid _ explanation.”

Lucius glared at Harry and spat on his face. Harry blinked in mild surprise as he wiped away the glob. “I don’t have to explain anything to a murderous psychotic ponce like you.” Harry twitched again then grinned up towards Lucius once more.

“Ah, so you do have a pair on you. I had thought you were just a weak little cockwhore who hid behind his wife's image and tarnished your name with all the little sluts you call in from the  _ Boys Club. _ ” Lucius’ smug smirk fell from his face. Even Tom sent a scandalous look towards him. 

The  _ Boys Club _ was actually the name of a sex shop that discreetly sent male teens out to do sex work. To have that on his record could make him lose everything. “Oh yes, I know exactly what you do in your spare time and who you do it with. I must say, you have to be incredibly fucked up in the head to use your own son. He looks so much like you so I suppose it makes sense. Your vanity was always your biggest flaw.”

“You- You won’t get away with this!” Lucius screeched. Harry only laughed in response before pulling out a check.

“Oh but you see dear Lucius I already have.” he waved the check in front of the blonde's face with a smug grin. “You see I got a call the other day from your dearest wife. It seems she’s become bored with you. So she paid me to do what I do best.” Lucius’ eyes bugged out of his face and he looked down towards his stomach. Tom leaned as far as he could just to see why. 

The knife Harry had been holding was buried halfway into his flesh. “I was told to be rid of you. Make sure no one finds any evidence of her involvement. But other than that I have free range to do with you as I please. So now you’re an example.” the chuckle that Harry released sent chills down Tom’s spine as the knife was ripped from Lucius’ flesh.

Harry turned towards Tom with a flourish, blood spraying against his face, knife dripping with crimson liquid. “Do you see what I do for you?” he gestures towards Lucius’ spasming body with a manic smirk. “Do you see the work I put into our relationship? Can you sense the love and devotion I have for you?” 

Tom’s eyes watered as Lucius looked at him pleadingly. Blood gushing from the cut in his stomach. How could his love possibly be so cruel? This wasn’t love, this was insanity! Harry’s grin fell and he looked back at Lucius. 

“Didn’t I tell you not to look at him?” he growled. “Would it be easier if I cut out your eyes?” Lucius shook his head, whimpering. “No? But then you wouldn't be able to stare at him at all. I think it’s a wonderful idea! What do you think doll?” Harry turned towards Tom who stiffened. He hesitantly shook his head. 

“I see, then how about a couple fingers hmm?” Lucius cried out making Harry whip back towards him. “I wasn’t asking  _ you.  _ Perhaps I should sew that little mouth shut instead hm?” Lucius struggled again, shaking the chains, trying to get away. Harry clicked his teeth and rolled his eyes. 

He strolled away from Lucius and opened another drawer of the bench. He hummed as he searched for whatever he wanted and Tom zoned in on the large shears hanging from the wall. A small ‘aha’ escaped Harry’s lips as he pulled out a large spool of thread and the largest needle Tom’s ever seen. 

“Oh I’ve been waiting for the moment to use this. I thought about it before, the others screamed far too much, I was surprised no one heard them. Then again we are rather far from civilization.” He was careful, always so careful, while threading the needle. Tom knew Harry was confident, Harry loved sewing patches onto their jackets, so this would be no different to him. 

Tom didn’t know how to feel about this entire situation. He was scared, terrified of his lover, but also so very content. Content to know Harry does all of this for him. That Harry isn’t doing this for no reason. That he can prevent Harry from doing it again.

He’s not even upset that his business partner is about to die in front of him. Which is concerning, even more so was his desire to see his lover in action. What was he like? Was he methodical in the way the removed limbs or was he spontaneous? The sudden switch of punishments for Lucius suggested the latter but maybe Harry had already wanted to do so.

Harry seemed to slide along the floor effortlessly. His hands gripping Lucius’ body and keeping him still as he eyed the blonde’s chapped lips. “P- Please no.” Harry sneered in response “I didn’t do anything wrong!” that stopped Harry in his tracks and the green eyed man looked up to Lucius in disbelief. 

“Oh dear Lucius you are so incredibly wrong. But I suppose I can allow you to believe such lies. I mean, it’s not your fault your wife doesn't desire you anymore, nor is it your fault your son is traumatized to the point he can barely function in society. Truly none of it could be linked back to you or your actions. Oh no, I see no flaws in front of me whatsoever. I was just paid to kill you. No hard feeling right??” 

Harry didn’t wait for Lucius to say anything as he shoved his sewing needle through the blondes lower lip. An ear splitting scream wrenched itself out of Lucius. Loud enough to make Tom’s ears ring, but despite that, Harry continued. His eyes lit up with maniacal delight as he held the blonde’s face still and pierced the needle through his upper lip. Somehow the screams got even louder and Tom felt his head shake from the intensity. 

Harry began to laugh, as he yanked the thread, soaked through with blood and spit. His laughter got more intense the more Lucius struggled in his grasp. But he never let go, only forced the needle through more of the man’s flesh. He was halfway done sewing the man's mouth closed when Lucius’ eyes rolled backwards and he fell still. Harry’s laughs died down and an annoyed expression covered his face.

“Well damn, it’s no fun to play with a broken puppet. I wonder how we should wake him up.” Harry turned towards Tom with an expectant look. Tom hummed looking towards the shelf full of chemicals he’d glazed over earlier. “Oh how smart doll. We don’t want him dead just yet. We should probably clean his wounds.” 

Harry dropped the needle and left it hanging from the unconscious man’s sewn lips. “I must say, I was kind of expecting you to be against this.” Harry murmured, grabbing a bottle of clear liquid and crouching down next to Tom. “I dare say you actually enjoy watching me torture him.” 

Tom shifted uncomfortably and Harry’s eyes rolled over his form. His eyes crinkled in amusement at the sight before him. “Ah I get it now.” he whispered, tongue peaking between supple lips teasingly. “If that’s what gets you off then I’ll happily continue working, doll.” 

Harry trailed a mischievous hand down Tom’s torso, long nails scratching the fabric of his shirt, before slowly, tantalizingly, circling around the bulge straining against his trousers. “Oh how fun that will be when I’m done.” Tom groaned as Harry pulled away, a smirk playing on his lips. 

This was wrong, Tom knew it, Harry knew it, but god did he feel so good right now. His lover was so devoted to him, going out of his way just to make sure Tom looked only at him, because he was all Tom’s and Tom was all his. It was so wrong but it felt so right. Tom watched Harry uncork the bottle with clenched teeth and smiled at the faint smell of acid. 

The bottle was tipped over slowly at first, small drips dropping onto open wounds, making Lucius flinch in his sleeping state. Then Harry flipped the entire bottle upside down and let it all pour out over the blonde’s head. Lucius woke with a silent cry of pain. The wounds upon his person were cleaned of blood as the ethanol washed it away before burning his tissue away. 

The man’s body spasmed as the liquid took its time to settle into a slight burn and Tom had to hold back a moan when Harry let a soft chuckle escape his lips. It took a moment for Lucius to finally quit struggling enough for Harry to grab the needle and thread once more, showing it to Lucius who looked at it in horror, realizing that the pain wasn’t over yet. 

As tears began to spill from the man’s eyes Harry hushed him “Aw poor sweet Lucius, there is no need to cry. This is for a good cause I promise. Why as soon as I’m finished with you I’ll be getting a prize to go with my payment. So sit still and be nice alright?” Lucius made a gurgling noise in his throat, most likely a mix between a cry and a cough, unable to make the sound around the saliva trying desperately to escape. 

Harry hummed happily as he continued to thread the needle through skin. The reactions weren’t nearly as violent as before. The ethanol probably caused a sort of numbing in the area. Tears flowed freely from the blonde’s steel eyes, Harry only wiped them away if they interfered with his work, smearing blood across the man’s face. Once he was done with the stitching he washed the blood away with more ethanol. Lucius screamed again but all that came out was a muffled choking sound. 

“Beautiful.” Harry proclaimed, backing towards Tom to gaze at his work. Lucius hung from the ceiling, arms chained above his head, hair united and messily tangled. His lips were sealed shut with a bright blood stained thread. His shirt, torn and shredded from the stab wound in his stomach, dripping with diluted crimson.

“Yes, truly splendid work. A one of a kind piece of art.” Harry’s eyes shined in the low light, glowing eerily in contrast to the shadows. “Wouldn’t you agree doll?” Tom huffed frantically, nodding, straining against his chains. The chilling cold from earlier now replaced with sweat from his arousal. His gag did nothing to hinder the drool escaping his lips. 

Harry sucked in a sharp breath, taking in the state of his lover and grinning ear to ear. “Oh now isn’t this a treat?” he spoke breathily. “All hot and bothered just for me?” Tom nodded, eyes hooded, breaths coming out in gasps. “Does this turn you on? Watching me turn such filth into works of art? Carving their flesh into the perfect centerpiece.” Tom let out a shaky moan as Harry let out a puff of cool air against his skin. 

“Oh yes, I can see how much you love this. So needy just for me. You like it when I do things for you. Love it when I treat you like a prince. Isn’t that right baby?” Tom squeezed his eyes shut, nodding once again to Harry’s delight. “I see. Then perhaps I’ll give you a little relief for now.” 

Tom gazed at Harry in confusion before his body tensed up. Harry trailed his hand back down towards the sipper of his trousers. Then he unclasped the button only to slowly unzip them. Tom glared weakly as Harry laughed. Then the next thing he saw was white as his trousers and pants were yanked down. He cried out and Harry let out a surprised gasp only to chuckle fondly. 

“Oh doll, you are such a treat.” Tom shivered and refocused his gaze, looking down to see his lovers hands covered in the sticky remains of his brief orgasm. Harry huffed and lifted a hand to his face, tentatively licking the cum from his fingers. He let out a hum of satisfaction, cleaning his hands thoroughly before caressing Tom’s face with the back. 

“You’re so good for me baby. But I still have work to do, so why don’t you sit back and enjoy the show hmm?” Tom could only huff in response, still coming off his brief euphoria. “Good boy.” 

Harry stood up and walked back towards the bench leaning over to grab the oversized shears Tom had seen earlier. What he was going to do with them, Tom couldn’t tell you. 

“Now then, let’s make this quick.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sowwy?


End file.
